somewhere we lost ourselves
by ghettos
Summary: When she's done and it's all over she turns to him with tears shining in her eyes and she tells him, I don't know what I was thinking. -— Lucy/Lorcan, one-shot. Mentions of self-harm.


**somewhere we lost ourselves**  
by _show me the horizon_

-**x**-

_last time i held you it was head to heart  
the curtain was drawn, i left you sleeping so sound  
if i had known forever after we would stay apart  
i would have whispered all the things i can't tell you now_

— Horizon; Rachael Yamagata

-**x**-

* * *

Silence.

She can't hear anything save the rhythmic pulse of the waves washing up against the sand and her own ragged, broken breathing — the rise and fall of her chest is almost painful; forced, and she wants everything to just _stop._

His hands are like iron bands around her arms, gripping her so tightly she's sure that she's going to bruise later on. She isn't even attempting to resist, now, just staring with crystalline eyes up at him, wide-eyed and on the verge of tears.

"What were you _thinking, _Lucy Weasley?"

But that's just it, she _wasn't._ She opens her mouth to answer him, but before her lips can even shape a single world, everything just comes crashing down on her and she starts to sob. He catches her, staggering slightly under her weight, as she cries and cries because her world has fallen apart.

-**x**-

He prises the knife from her fingers and sets it down on the counter with a clatter, reaching for the nearest dishtowel, muttering under his breath, _oh God oh God oh God. _She doesn't feel anything, and looks down at her bloody wrists emotionlessly, unfeeling.

There isn't even any pain. A strange kind of numbness has spread through her, dulling all her senses; time seems to crawl sluggishly by. He's crying, she notes, as he presses the dishtowel to her wounds and reaches for his wand, drawing it out of his pocket shakily.

_Lorcan_, she tries to say, but he doesn't look up, bending over to touch his wand to her bleeding wrists and murmuring an incantation.

When he finally glances up his cheeks are glistening with tears, and his eyes seem to glitter with more in the dim light. "What were you _thinking,_ Lucy Weasley?" he asks her, and for the second time she finds herself wordless without an answer to that question.

-**x**-

It's some kind of Muggle pill, she muses, turning the bottle over in her hands and reading the label once more. _ Do not overdose._ Or what? she thinks, popping the lid and tipping a few capsules into her palm. Or what?

She places the first pill on the tip of her tongue and feels it dissolve into a bitter pool in her mouth; her throat constricts and she has to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from hurling as her gag reflex activates itself, her stomach heaving and heaving. Clenching her eyes tightly shut she puts the rest of the medicine into her mouth and swallows hard, ensuring that all seven of them pass through her palate and down her gullet.

Then she tilts her head back and waits for death to come.

In the next instant she finds herself on the cold tiles of the bathroom, hurling over and over again into the toilet bowl. The contents of her stomach are a sickly green and yellow, one that makes her cringe just by looking at it. Somewhere in between he appears, and she feels his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back, the other pushing her curtain of hair back from her clammy face.

When she's done and it's all over she turns to him with tears shining in her eyes and she tells him, _I don't know what I was thinking_.

-**x**-

She's broken, falling to pieces and already halfway gone — but he still sticks with her. It confuses her as to why he does — after all, she's done nothing for _him_ — but when she asks him, he dismisses it with a shrug of his shoulders and, _you're my friend._ But she can't help but feel that it's more, that it goes deeper than that.

Because there's definitely something in the way that he's always staring at her with those mesmerizing eyes of his, the way his eyes light up whenever she approaches him, the way he seems to smile whenever she does. Or maybe she just _wants_ it to be something more, Lucy honestly doesn't know.

But she _does_ know that Lorcan Scamander is someone that you don't often find, and no matter what happens, she'll always have him to count on.

-**x**-

It's dark outside, with the glowing silver moon above as the only source of light. His face is shadowed, eerily half-lit, and she can see the faint outlines of his lips moving. _When did everything start? _he asks, and she can only shrug in response.

He casts his eyes downwards and stares at the ground; she whispers, _Lorcan_? and he looks up into her bright blue eyes, like faceted diamonds in the darkness. _Thank you_, she says, and then she leans forward and presses her lips against his cheek.

_You're my friend,_ he says again, but this time he's trying to convince himself.

-**x**-

It happens too fast. There's a flash of green light; he's rooted to the floor. A blur of dark hair flashes up before him, taking the curse for him —

— then nothing.

-**x**-

She's lying on the floor, there's so much blood — _oh_ — and he's beside himself, dropping to his knees next to her and clutching her to his chest, repeating, _stay with me, stay with me, stay with me_ over and over again like a mantra. She smiles weakly up at him, touching his cheek with bloody fingers. _Lorcan._

_What were you thinking, Lucy Weasley_? he asks her, openly sobbing now. _What were you _thinking?

_I was thinking of you,_ she answers, and that's when his heart finally shatters into a million pieces.

-**x**-

Silence.

She looks up, and he's above her, with tears streaking down his face and begging her not to leave him. _Lorcan,_ she whispers, and then she closes her eyes.

* * *

**A/N** — very angsty, I'm sorry D: hoped you liked it anyway, and please review! this is dedicated to Vicky / blurs of red and blonde, because she's awesome and I love her. (:

thanks for reading, and do review! :D


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